


A Stolen Heart

by sraye96



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Everybody Lives, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia, Pining, Recreational Drug Use, Shoplifting, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-17
Updated: 2020-02-17
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:06:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22776115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sraye96/pseuds/sraye96
Summary: Regardless, it's kind of starting to feel like a big deal that they were going to be spending Valentine's Day together so Richie really thinks he should at least put a little effort into it. Except he doesn't know shit about romance and it's tomorrow and he's broke, so he's severely limited on ideas, time, and funds. He actually has zero ideas, roughly twenty-four hours, and seventy-five cents.OrFive Times Richie Stole Chocolate For Eddie and One Time He Didn’t
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 13
Kudos: 97





	A Stolen Heart

**Author's Note:**

> I'm a little late, but happy fucking Valentine's Day Losers!

1) 1990

At age thirteen, Richie Tozier is by no means well versed in romance. In fact, he thinks the whole thing is rather stupid, if you ask him. Sure, kissing and holding hands and stuff with a girlfriend sounds cool and all, but really, the only girl he wants to hang out with is Beverly. He just doesn't see the allure of going out of his way to meet others and try to get them to like him when he already has six of the best friends in the entire world. 

Most of the time, that's completely fine, but it's  _ Valentine's Day _ tomorrow. It's supposed to be all about romance and love and things that make your heart beat fast and your palms all sweaty and you love it all anyway. He doesn't have a girlfriend to share that with though, so he'll settle for what he can have, which is Eddie as his pity Valentine this year because they're both single with nothing better to do on a Wednesday night. 

They've actually spent almost every Valentine's Day together since they met. Usually they would meet up with Stan at Bill's house and the four of them would watch gory horror movies as some kind of rebellion to the holiday itself, but this year, Bill is dating Beverly, so they're spending it together. Stan asked some girl from Synagogue to be his Valentine, so he's busy doing whatever they're going to do — suck face probably — too. Mike has to work on the farm and Ben has plans with his mom, some standing thing they've done every year since his father died. That left Eddie all his on the most romantic day of the year. 

They had hung out every year on Valentine's Day, so it was no big deal. Except that, for some reason, it absolutely was a big deal. Probably had something to do with the fact that kissing and holding hands and stuff sounds like it would be a lot more fun if it were with Eddie. Or maybe the fact that he's suddenly started noticing how pretty Eddie's eyes are and how short his shorts always are. Or maybe the fact that he's started staring at Eddie's lips so often that of course he imagined what they would feel like against his own.

Regardless, it's kind of starting to feel like a big deal that they were going to be spending Valentine's Day together so Richie really thinks he should at least put a little effort into it. Except he doesn't know shit about romance and it's tomorrow and he's broke, so he's severely limited on ideas, time, and funds. He actually has zero ideas, roughly twenty-four hours, and seventy-five cents. 

So he goes to Freezes and browses the aisles. He spots flowers first, but that really seems to send the wrong message. Or the right one. It sent the I-want-to-hold-your-hand-lovey-dovey-mushy-feelings message and, like, yeah, duh, he does, but he can't admit that. Even if it was a girl, he still wouldn't. There are some cheesy shirts, obnoxious with flowers and funny sayings, that he would have loved to throw on to embarrass Eddie, but they’re out of his budget. The teddy bears are too; so are the various candies and cards. In fact, just about everything is out of his budget. 

But on the end cap of their assortment of Valentine's  _ crap _ are some of the smaller assorted heart-shaped boxes of chocolate, which are... also too expensive, but only just barely. They also happen to be a great deal  _ smaller _ and...

He has a genius idea. It's something he had only really done with Beverly a handful of times at the pharmacy for a pack of smokes to split, but hey, how hard could it be alone? And Eddie deserves something nice, even if it wasn't much. So Richie looks over his shoulder and doesn't see any other last minute Valentine's Day shoppers nearby, so he snatches up one of the hearts, the one with Pepe le Pew on it, and unceremoniously shoves it into the front of his pants. With some finesse and finagling, he manages to settle it into his waistband and tug his shirt over it so that the bump is only noticeable if he twists a certain direction. Then he walks out of the front of the store without anyone noticing. 

After he rounds the corner down the street, he pulls it out of his pants to make sure none of the chocolate melts and grins. He's so excited to give it to Eddie tomorrow and then maybe go read comics with him in the clubhouse. It's simple enough to play it off as a joke or a friend thing, but it's just the two of them and it's  _ perfect. _

He can't wait.

He's so giddy the next day that he's grinning like a loon the whole day. He also feels on the top of his comedy game, getting in hysterical jabs left and right. Even Stan laughs at most of his jokes. He's on top of the world with this stupid box of chocolate tucked safely in his backpack for Eddie later. 

Except right after lunch, Eddie's mom comes to the school and picks him up. It's not that strange, she does it a lot for surprise doctor's visits that they all know he doesn't need, so he just looks forward to picking him up after school is over. If he's lucky, she'll even say he can't bike today and Richie can make him ride on his handlebars. He loves when Eddie rides on his handlebars because he spends the whole time complaining about how bad at biking Richie is and it's the cutest thing ever. 

In fact, he's still in such a good mood after school that when he gets to the Kaspbrak house, he even uses his kickstand on his bike for what might be the first time ever. On the porch, he rifles through his backpack once again just to make sure the box of chocolate is still in the same place he saw it every other time he checked for it before knocking on the door with his best  _ I'm not up to any trouble _ smile on his face. 

Eddie’s mom opens the door after a few seconds, smiling pleasantly at first, but when her gaze lands on Richie, her face twists into something akin to disgust. That's not unusual either, she's pretty much always looked at him like that. Probably because he's usually dirty and his knees are always scraped up since he's so fucking clumsy and getting taller as fast as he is isn't doing him much favors. It might also be because she's heard him open his mouth. Or just because he's friends with Eddie and she hates pretty much all of them, save for Bill. "Richard. What are you doing here?"

"I came to see if Eddie could still hang out today, Mrs. K- Kaspbrak. Mrs. Kaspbrak." He manages to keep his smile on his face, even as her eyes narrowed into slits. 

"He's sick. He's not going anywhere for the rest of the day, maybe not even school tomorrow." She huffs, starting to close the door without another word. 

"Wait!" Richie cries, stepping forward. "Can I see him at least? Real quick like, Mrs. K? I have his stuff from the classes he missed after lunch!" It's not even true. Ben is the one the teachers trusted with all the Losers extra schoolwork, even though Richie is at the top of all of his classes, but he said the first thing he thought would get him in the door. 

She studies him for a moment and looks like she's actually going to say no, but eventually she sighs and opens the door all the way. "Be quick about it. My Eddie-Bear needs his rest." 

"Thanks, Mrs. K!" He dashes past her and up the stairs. Eddie's room door is closed, but he throws it open without knocking.

Eddie jolts up from where he had been curled around his janky secondhand Walkman and headphones the Losers had all pitched in to buy him for his last birthday. "I'm resting, Ma! I promise—" His voice squeaks in that high pitch he always hits when he's lying while he tries to shove the walkman and headphones under the covers. When he realizes it's not Sonia walking into his room, his hands still and he frowns. "Richie? What the fuck are you doing here?" 

"I came to bring your schoolwork!" He shouts for his mom’s benefit, even though she hadn't followed him up the stairs. Once he's crossed the room and plopped himself down on the edge of Eddie's bed, he grins and says, "Actually, Ben has it. I just lied to Mrs. K so she would let me in."

"Oh." Eddie gives him a weird look, something like confusion and appreciation mixed together. "What are you really doing here then?" 

Richie shucks off his backpack and rifles through it blindly. "Well, you were my Valentine's Day date so I came here to get you to come read shitty Marvel comics with me —” 

"Marvel isn't shitty. You're shitty for liking DC more." It's not even true. Richie likes comics well enough, but he's never been a huge fan either way, but you bet your ass he told Eddie he was a DC fan when he realized how much it would infuriate him. 

"—In the clubhouse, but ole Sonia must want me to herself because she said you aren't allowed out today." He finishes like Eddie didn't even interrupt him. 

Eddie rolls his eyes. "Beep beep, Trashmouth."

His hand finally hits the cardboard box and he pulls it out with a flourish. "So I thought I should at least give you your present to try to cheer you up from your solitary confinement." Now that the words are out of his mouth, he realizes this is a lot more romantic than shoving chocolate at his best friend over a comic book in the hammock in the clubhouse. His face feels all hot and he's sweaty, in his armpits, on his palms, under his collar. Eddie is staring at him with his mouth agape, then looking down at the heart and Pepe le Pew and the stupid  _ Something smells like love _ printed on it, then back at him and Richie is pretty sure he's going to spontaneously combust if neither of them say anything in the next five seconds, so he shoves it into Eddie's lap. "So. Here. Happy Valentine's Day, Eds."

Eddie doesn't say anything for a while. He just stares transfixed on the heart in his lap. Richie nervously wrings his hands together, then grimaces with how clammy they are and rubs them down the front of his jeans to try to get some of the moisture off. He can't bear to look at Eddie anymore, so he's staring at his shoes and —  _ Fuck _ , this is awkward, isn't it? He fucked up. Stupid stupid stupid — 

"Thank you." Eddie whispers in a small voice and Richie's head whips around to look at him. He's expecting him to be frowning, but he has a soft smile on his face and his fingers have curled around the box gently, like it's something he has to treat with care or it might break. "Ma never lets me get these things because she says they'll rot my teeth. I mean, same with all candy, but I've never actually gotten chocolate for Valentine's Day before." He clutches it to his chest and looks up at Richie. "But I didn't get you anything."

He shrugs like it's not a big deal because, really, it isn't. He wasn't expecting anything in the first place. Besides, Eddie's smile is more than enough for him. "S'okay."

But then Eddie's smile is gone. He looks fiercely determined. "I promise, I'll get you something good for your birthday next month. Something really good to make up for not getting you anything for Valentine's Day, okay?"

"Really, Eds, it's not a big deal!" Spontaneous combustion is not off the table yet. If anything, his face feels like it got even warmer. "I didn't even spend any money on you!"

"What? Then how did you get this?" Eddie holds the box up and waves it a little in Richie's face like he might have forgotten what it was or something. He's such a little shit and it makes Richie snort. 

He holds up his fingers and waggles them. "Just a little five finger discount, Eds."

"Richie!" Eddie says his name like that's admonishment in and of itself, but he's smiling too much for Richie to think he's very serious. "You can't go around stealing things! What if you got caught? You could have gone to jail!"

"They aren't going to send me to jail over a little chocolate, numbnuts." Richie's giggling because Eddie sounds more offended at the idea of Richie getting in trouble than the actual act of stealing. 

Eddie opens his mouth to argue — at least, that's what Richie assumes he was going to do because it's Eddie and that's what he always does with Richie — but his mom calls from the bottom of the stairs. "Alright, Richard. I think it's about time you left. Eddie needs his rest."

They share a grimace. "Sorry I can't go to the clubhouse. I was looking forward to reading the new Spider-Man comic that Bill brought down there."

"Not looking forward to hanging out with me?" Richie asks. He goes for nonchalant and overshoots it, sounding more than a little desperate. 

"Who would want to hang out with your ass?" Eddie shoots back, smiling, but then his smile falls. "Really though. I'm sorry. I know we made plans since everyone else was busy. We should hang out tomorrow or whenever she lets me out of the house to make up for it."

Richie can feel his heart pounding hard, probably harder than it ever has before. "Yeah. Sure. Definitely."

He's practically skipping on his way out of Eddie's house. Maybe he didn't get to spend the whole afternoon with Eddie like he wanted, but it's a pretty successful Valentine's Day anyway. 

2) 1991

Despite it being the same day every year, Valentine's Day creeps up on Richie again their freshman year of high school. He's just about blown all his money that week at the arcade — mostly on single player on Street Fighter, but he definitely covered Eddie's games whenever he needed him to. The last little bit he had after that is spent on the two latest issues of Spider-Man but it's fine. It's not like Freezes has invested in upping their security system in the last year and he's gotten more practice filching cigarettes right from under Mr. Keene's nose, so he's feeling pretty confident as he strolls down the aisles on February thirteenth.

The Losers had decided that Valentine's Day is the only holiday they wouldn't be spending together once they got to high school. Bill and Beverly broke up, but surprisingly Mike asked her to get milkshakes at a dinner shyly and she agreed. Bill made plans with some girl that had just moved there and Stan had a date with some girl in his year that the rest of them didn't know. With Ben and his mom having their tradition, that left Richie and Eddie alone once again for it, which is just fine by him. Eddie insists they make up for the year before and go to the clubhouse to read comics. It sounds like heaven to Richie. 

There's only one more thing he needs to make it perfect. 

In Freezes, he briefly glances at the small, four piece heart-shaped boxes of chocolates with cartoon characters on them and sees they even reused the Pepe le Pew one he had stolen the year before. A little chuckle escapes him as he picks it up and studies it, but he puts it back. Cartoons seem too childish now that they're in high school, even if Eddie comes over and watches them on Saturday mornings still. If he's going to give a Valentine's Day gift while he's in high school, it needs to be a more mature gift, right? That's how that works? At least, that's how it works in his head, so he leaves the super cheap small heart boxes meant for kids on the end cap and looks at some of the bigger ones in the actual aisle. Some of the bigger ones he has to exclude just because of size. He's a stick of a kid, worse than the year before now that he's grown four inches but weighs almost the same, there's no way he could shove one up his shirt and not have it poke out the sides. There's some with funny phrases on the front, but for some reason, he doesn't really want this to be seen as a joke like he wants most of his actions to be perceived as. The ones with gushy  _ I love you _ messages feel like too much though, so he opts for a simple red one with ten pieces of chocolate. 

Happy with his choice, he wedges it into the waistband of his jeans just like the year before and walks out a lot less suspiciously this time around. 

***

Eddie’s mom doesn't show up at school this time, so when the final bell rings, the Losers all file out to where their bikes are stashed on the side of the school. The rest of them say their goodbyes and head off while Richie and Eddie ride down towards the Barrens, arguing the whole way. First it's about homework that Richie swears they don't have, then about the flu — Richie doesn't even remember what his point was, just that he accomplishes his goal of seeing Eddie all worked up over statistics — then about properly storing their bikes when Eddie puts his up on the kickstand and bitches about Richie's toppling over into his. It's non-stop arguing straight into the clubhouse and Richie wouldn't have it any other way. 

As soon as they're down there, he throws himself into the hammock and pulls out the comics out of his backpack. He offers them to Eddie. "Have you read them yet?" Richie asks, but he knows he hasn't. Eddie has been complaining about Bill not being into Spider-Man anymore, which meant he didn't get to read the comics anymore since his mom wouldn't let him waste money on them. She thinks they're too violent. 

"Fuck yeah!" Eddie snatches them away and then crams himself into the on the opposite side of Richie without a word despite the numerous bean bags and chairs they've added down there over the last year. That's something that had started recently that Richie  _ loves _ . Instead of picking fights by staying in the hammock too long, Richie just has to hop in there for Eddie to follow. It's one of the few times he gets away with touching him in the way he wants, which is to say altogether too much for fourteen-year-old boys to touch each other. The hammock has definitely become the destination of a good majority of his wet dreams, but he keeps that part to himself. 

Once Eddie is done making himself fit between Richie's legs, his own thighs laying over top Richie's, he begins reading. Richie watches him with a dumb smile on his face for what is entirely too long before remembering he still has the chocolate in his backpack too. He digs that out after his copy of Batman to read and shoves the box under the comic in Eddie's lap. "Happy Valentine's Day, Eds." Before Eddie can look up, he opens the comic in front of his face to hide the warmth spreading across his cheeks. 

He hears pages shifting, then the box open. Eddie doesn't say anything and it's starting to freak him out, so he lowers his comic shield just enough to peer over the top of it to find Eddie holding out a chocolate to him. "Thank you." His voice is soft, softer than Eddie's voice ever is. It says so much even though he only uttered two words.

Richie takes the chocolate quickly and crams it into his mouth. "No problem." He says, mouth full, hiding behind the comic book again. 

"I'll get you something next year, Trashmouth. I'm sorry. I didn't think..." Eddie trails off, then groans in frustration. "Next time we got to the arcade. Street Fighter on me, okay?"

He's so glad that Eddie can't see him because he's grinning like a loon. "Sure, Eds. I'll kick your ass on your own dollar for a change."

Eddie snorts, but that's the end of the conversation. It's amazing, somehow even better than the year before, probably since they're touching a lot more and it's just them for the rest of the night. Well, until nine pm since it's still a Thursday and they both have curfews, but still. 

After a few minutes of silence, Eddie makes a disgruntled noise that has Richie looking over his comic book again. He's frowning at the box and looking at the back to see what he just ate. "Ugh, I hate these caramel ones. They stick to your teeth and that's just weird. I wished they wouldn't put them in there." He must see Richie looking at him with obvious concern because he quickly flips the box back over and eats another chocolate. "All the others are good though! I just don't like the ones that stick to my teeth so much."

Richie makes a mental note for next year about that because he's definitely doing this again.

3) 1992

Richie is better prepared sophomore year. Sort of. He doesn't have any money — he's pretty sure stealing the chocolate is half the tradition anyway — but he goes to pick out a box of chocolate on the twelfth instead of the day before, hoping to find a one without any caramels in it. It's absolutely fucking impossible though because every single box has caramels in it apparently, so he's stuck stealing a red heart-shaped box with fifteen pieces of chocolate. He was going to get the same one as the year before, but fifteen pieces of chocolate for a fifteen year old boy is just too perfect to pass up. 

Thursday night, the night before Valentine's Day, Beverly sneaks up into his room to smoke before she heads home. Not cigarettes — she could smoke those anywhere since she's better at stealing them than he is. Somehow Richie is still an absolute lower case L loser, but he's managed to be the only one of them to find a reliable person to buy weed from. They play The Cure and Pink Floyd and David Bowie, all crammed on the mixtape that the two of them had made for the express purpose of high listening while laying on his bed and smoking a joint between them. Shortly after they finish, she sneaks back out the window to make curfew and he curls up in his bed, thinking about how he's supposed to have Eddie all to himself again the next day. It makes his cheeks hurt from how much he's smiling. 

Ben says it's the last year his mom asked to spend it with him, but really, they all get it. They've always been super close since his dad passed. Bill asked some girl in his history class to go out with him this year. Richie knows her and she's pretty and nice enough, so he's happy for him. Stan has a different date again this year, but that's not that surprising. He's somehow pulling girls left and right in the way that Richie always jokes he can. Mike is playing football now that he's no longer homeschooled, so he's actually somewhat of a popular guy. He had several girls ask him out and as far as Richie could tell, he just said yes to the first one so no one felt bad. Beverly has decided she won't celebrate it this year because Valentine's Day is just a bullshit holiday made by corporations to try to sell more chocolate. Richie agrees with her honestly, but he's still looking forward to making Eddie happy with his gift. 

He sees the box for Eddie on his desk and the vague whispers of an idea start rolling around in his dazed high brain. It slowly starts to take shape, forming into a half baked plan that sounds genius in his own brain, so he pulls the box into his lap and enacts it. 

***

They ride their bikes to his house after school since Valentine's Day is finally on a fucking Friday, so Eddie can stay over. They plan to watch Silence of the Lambs, which Richie caught on VHS last week, as well as The Lost Boys since it was one of the horror movies they used to watch together with Stan and Bill on Valentine's Day. His parents made plans for some fancy shmancy adult date and that meant they weren't going to be home until super late, so they even have the house to themselves. That just meant Richie plans on sneaking them both alcohol from the kitchen that his parents would probably notice eventually, but still. Super cool plans for a fifteen year old who is in love with his best friend. 

Because yeah, he is. He's given up denying it at this point. He thinks that Eddie ranting and raving about health and statistical probabilities and sanitation is the cutest thing in the world, which is definitely not something anyone should think about anyone so if that's not a sign, he's not sure what is. Plus Eddie is definitely the star of all his wet dreams. The second star has to be his track shorts since the little fucker has started running for the track team this year, but they're always on Eddie so they're more of a supporting role than anything else. Then there's the fact that sometimes his brain short circuits when Eddie smiles at him. Or touches him. Or yells at him. It's safe to assume his brain is only working at fifty percent capacity whenever Eddie is around actually. 

That's all besides the point. Sure, Richie is in love with Eddie, whatever. That doesn't mean he's stupid enough to ever  _ ac _ t on it. He's been beaten up and bullied over being a fag his whole life and they couldn't even prove it yet. He doesn't want to know what would happen to him if anyone ever found out. He's perfectly content to be his best friend for the rest of his life because at least he gets to enjoy the small amazing things like his unwavering trust and those big doe eyes of his. 

Eddie sinks into his couch as soon as they get inside and Richie has to stifle a laugh. "Comfy there?"

"Fuck you. You know I love your couch." He wiggles until he's on his side and shoves the nearest throw pillow under his head. 

He leaves him there to go make popcorn and some drinks from the liquor cabinet. After he sets them on the coffee table, he darts up to his room to grab the box of chocolate. He comes back downstairs, starts the movie, and dumps it unceremoniously on top of Eddie. "Happy Valentine's Day, fucker."

"Richie...." Eddie looks down at the box on his chest while Richie picks up his legs and settles onto the couch, draping them over his lap. Richie is trying to make it seem like it's not a big deal because it's just chocolate between friends. He would get all the Losers chocolate if he could, that's just what you do for friends. It's not a big deal. That doesn't stop his face from breaking out into a grin when Eddie smiles softly at the box. "Thank you."

"Course. Anything for my Eddie Spaghetti." He pats his ankle and leans over his legs to grab his drink. 

Eddie is still looking at the box instead of the screen, but he only knows that because he's still looking at Eddie as he opens the box. His smile is covered up by a scowl. "Seriously Rich? Did you give me a box you already busted into? What, did you get high last night and get the munchies and eat my fucking chocolate? What a prick."

Sober Richie could throttle high Richie last night. Is that seriously what his brilliant idea had been? To break into Eddie's chocolate before giving it to him? Jackass. He hates that guy. He swallows thickly, trying to figure out what the fuck to say to fix this. Eddie doesn't actually look mad, which is good, but still. "Well, I, uh. I mean." He clears his throat to buy some more time since he was just stumbling over his words. "Look, you hate the caramels, right? You said they got stuck in your teeth and that was gross or something. I just... I don't know man! I thought I would just eat the caramel ones before I gave it to you so you didn't accidentally eat them or something. It was stupid." He looks down at Eddie's legs in his lap and picks at a fray at the end of his jeans for something to do with his hands. 

It's quiet for a beat too long. He's sure Eddie thinks he's stupid — and he is, definitely — but he doesn't want to have to look at him and see that on his face. "Oh." Eddie says finally, breathlessly like he just got the wind knocked out of him. Richie's eyes whip up to his face and Eddie is looking at him strangely. "You remember that?"

"Of course I remember that, Eds. I listen when you talk, dipshit." 

They stare at each other. Richie's heart feels like it's lodged in his throat, but he's starting to get used to that feeling. It's just another one of those things like his brain short circuiting that he's learning to deal with since he's hopelessly in love with his best friend. Eddie looks away first, snatching his backpack up off the floor. He digs around in it for a second before coming up and throwing something at Richie.

A box of conversation hearts bounces off his forehead and lands on top of Eddie's shins. "I couldn't get you anything else. I'm sorry. I didn't have much money and some of us aren't anti-establishment pieces of shit who can just steal stuff whenever we feel like it." Leave it to Eddie to insult him while giving him a goddamn Valentine's Day gift. 

_ Eddie just gave him a goddamn Valentine's Day gift _ . Richie knows he's just doing it because he's been giving Eddie presents every year now, but it still means the world to him. He picks the box up in both his hands and swallows his heart back down along with the tears that were pricking at his eyes because he's a fucking crybaby apparently. "Thanks, Eds. I- It's plenty."

They don't say anything else for a while. Eddie gives him a couple chocolates from his box and he hands over some of his conversation hearts gladly. He'd already given Eddie his actual heart years ago, what were a couple candy ones too?

That night they fell into Richie's bed, both tipsy from their stolen alcohol. If Eddie ever asked, Richie would blame pulling him close and burying his face into his neck on the alcohol too. 

4) 1993

Junior year is different. One too many bullies beat the shit out of Richie for being a queer and he can’t keep pretending that it's not bothering him. He goes through eight pairs of glasses in the first half of the school year and he can't keep doing it. He is what they say he is and it scares the shit out of him that they know somehow even though he’s never done anything about it, so he decides to throw them off his trail. 

He asks Greta Bowie out for a movie on Valentine's Day. For some fucking reason, she actually agrees too.

Ben and his mom celebrate the day before so he can go out with Beverly on the day of. If you ask Richie, it's about damn time — which, incidentally, is actually Beverly's response. Bill and Mike plan on going to the diner and Richie can't tell if it's as friends or something more because he knows they look at each other the same way he looks at Eddie. Neither of them is actually dumb enough to say that out loud, so they might not actually know either. Stan gets asked by a girl at Synagogue. Eddie... doesn't ask anyone out and no one asks him out. He says it's fine, that he doesn't actually like the holiday anyway, and when he snaps at Stan for asking if he's sure, they all drop it. 

Richie hates it. He wants to cancel his stupid date and ask Eddie to come to the movies with him instead. Or to come over to his house to read comics. Or get high in the clubhouse. Or literally anything because spending the day with Eddie sounds a million times better than hanging out with a girl that used to bully Beverly and make fun of him as well. 

But he doesn't. He's really hoping that hanging out with Greta for Valentine's Day will make the bullies chill the fuck out, at least for a month or two. His ribs still hurt from the last time he got the shit kicked out of him and he only had the last pair of glasses for two weeks. 

He still goes to Freezes and steals a heart-shaped box of chocolates from their seasonal aisle, this year a twenty piece box. He still eats all the caramel ones out of it. He still plans on giving it to Eddie by the end of the day. 

He just has to go on a stupid date first. 

And it  _ is _ stupid. She doesn't really seem to tolerate him, much less like him, with her lips curling down in a scowl whenever he tries to make a joke that would have killed with the Losers or her eyes rolling whenever he suggests maybe going to the arcade before the movie starts when he picks her up in his beat-up old pickup truck. She also looks at it like it's a death trap and, sure, if he had been in charge of keeping it running, it would be. But Eddie is the one who's been taking care of it, so he feels offended on his behalf that she would look at it poorly. The thing wouldn't even run without Eddie; he had done everything from replacing all the popped tires to checking the fluid levels to changing the oil all on his own.

They end up getting milkshakes at the diner while Mike and Bill are there, but he only waves to them as they sit down in a booth further away. After the third time that she scoffs at his attempt to ask her about herself, he can't take it anymore. "Okay. What gives?"

"What?" She asks, looking around the diner.

"Why did you say yes when I asked you out?" 

Greta looks at him with her eyes narrowed. "Are you complaining about me giving your trashmouth a chance?"

"Yes, actually." He snorts. "You look miserable. Why would you agree to go on a date with me?"

"Why did you ask me?" She snaps back, pulling her milkshake close and chewing at the end of her straw. 

"I..." He doesn't have a good reason that doesn't out himself, so he gnaws on his bottom lip for a second. "Why do you think I asked you out?" He's obviously deflecting. He just hopes she won't say anything about it because she doesn't care. 

With a sigh, she looks at him and then pointedly away. "Probably the same reason I said yes." 

He follows her gaze to see Marcia Fadden at a booth over by Bill and Mike. She's with Paul Anderson and they're making gross goo goo eyes at each other. When he turns back, Greta is scowling and using her straw to stab into her milkshake over and over. "Oh." He responds smartly. 

"Yeah. Oh. Dipshit." It's comforting, somehow, for Greta to still be a bitch after baring her soul to him. It reminds him that she's still the person she was before he found out and maybe he is too. That maybe this big, dark secret he's carried locked away deep in his chest doesn't have to change everything. It’s not enough for him to want to scream it from the rooftops any time soon, but still. It’s nice. 

He frowns down at his own milkshake. "Everyone already hates me anyway. Want me to go ruin their date for you?"

Her eyebrows raise up on her forehead comically high before she cracks the first genuine smile he's seen on her face that day. "No. But you can be a gentleman and pay for my milkshake."

"Did I not tell you we were dining and dashing?" He asks conspiratorially, leaning across the table as he whispers it.

Greta's jaw drops, but then her eyes narrow. "You're fucking with me, right?"

He waggles his eyebrows in response before laughing. Their date is a little easier after that. He feels less like a date than just hanging out with a friend. There’s no doubt she would disagree, probably with something along the lines of, “You think I would be caught dead calling a loser like you a friend?” Even if she thought that, he likes to think that they have some sort of understanding between them.

She's back at her house at nine pm sharp, much earlier than any real Valentine's date should be. Just before she gets out of his truck, Richie asks, "Should we like... tell people we did shit? To make them believe it?"

"You think people would actually believe I would sleep with you, trashmouth? Please, I have standards." She shoots back and it feels less like a personal affront and more like a playful jab. Maybe it's because she's fighting down a smile when she says it. "I mean. Sure. Say whatever you want. It might help us both."

"Can't believe I got frisky with a popular girl. Gee golly, wait until I tell the Losers." He slips into a Voice, the nerdy one that sounds like an accountant that he modeled after Stan’s own voice, and he feels damn proud when she giggles at it. 

"I take it back. I don't want anyone thinking I even kissed the mouth that weird accent just came out of."

He shrugs. "Too late. We already did the dirty and I got your underwear to prove it."

"Oh my god, what is this? Sixteen Candles?"

"Are you judging my movie choices?"

"No. Just you in general." 

He snorts. "Goodnight, Greta."

"Night, trashmouth. Wish your little hypochondriac a happy Valentine's Day for me." She gets out before he can say anything back to that, not that he would have because he was busy floundering for words anyway. 

Once he gets a hold of himself, he drives straight to Eddie's street. He doesn't park in front of the house because Eddie’s mom would recognize his rust bucket anywhere and probably organize a witch hunt for him if she did, but he parks at the end of the street. He's already got an overnight bag packed with everything he needs for the rest of his Valentine's Day slung over his shoulder as he barrels out of his truck and dashes down the street to the Kaspbraks’. He started climbing in through his window whenever Eddie was on house arrest sometime during their sophomore year, but it had slowly become more of a once a week thing than anything at this point.

He's up the tree in the yard and knocking on the second floor window that belongs to Eddie before he remembers that he never actually asked if he could come over after his date. For all he knows, Eddie might have gone out last minute. He's saved most of his internal spiraling by the window flying open after his second knock. "Richie?" Eddie, already in pyjamas, is peering up at him from where he's perched on a branch. 

"Hiya there, Spaghetti Head. May I come in?" He asks it as he's already pushing his way through the window.

Once he's standing upright in the room, he shucks off his chucks and his backpack. "What are you doing here?" Eddie asks, bewildered. 

"It's Valentine's Day. You didn't think I would let my favorite pasta get cold without me, did you?" Richie is grinning at him, but his face falls when he sees Eddie looking at him warily. "It's not like it went sideways so I came to wallow in my misery here."

"Oh. I'm glad your date went well then." Eddie says stiffly, shuffling back towards his bed. "I'm actually kind of tired, so..."

Richie frowns. "Okay, Eddie Spaghetti. We can go to bed. But first..." He pulls out the box of chocolates and shoves it towards his friend. "Happy Valentine's Day, Eds."

Eddie's face softens at the sight of it. "Thanks, Richie." He takes it and pops the lid off, smiling slightly at the holes from the missing chocolates. 

"Do you want to hear the ridiculously weird date I just went on? If you swear to secrecy, of course. You're the only one who gets to know the whole truth, Eds." His heart twinges at the lie in his words. Eddie is the only one who will get the closest version of the truth, that they both just wanted a date to make people stop talking shit about them, but he’s still lying to his best friend and he desperately wishes he didn’t have to. Buf if he admitted he was into dudes, it would only open the floodgates and there’s no doubt the next thing out of his mouth would be his love for Eddie.

Eddie frowns again and Richie really isn't sure why he's so against it. Well, actually, it's not that surprising since Greta did kind of bully all of them throughout elementary and middle school. He flops down onto his bed with his box of chocolates. "Sure. Whatever."

It's unenthusiastic and followed by an eyeroll, so Richie decides to give away his second surprise early just to cheer Eddie up. "Okay but before that..." He digs back into his bag and produces a small plastic case with a mixtape inside. Richie had made plenty of mixtapes before for all sorts of occasions — he had one that he smoked to with Beverly, another that he played only in the clubhouse, one for drinking in the Denbrough's basement, another for their excursions to Mike's farm, others just for his truck — but he hadn't actually ever  _ given  _ one to anyone. "Here." It's offered up the same way the box was, by shoving it into Eddie's space until he's forced to take it. "I, uh. I know you don't have a lot of tapes for your Walkman and it's hard because your mom doesn't know you have it and all. So. I made you a mixtape. It's got all your favorites on it. David Bowie, Cyndi Lauper, The Cure..." 

Richie's backpack slips from his grip with a thump onto the ground, but neither of them notice it. Eddie's eyes are transfixed on the tape now in his hand and Richie's eyes never move from Eddie's face. Eddie stares down at the writing on the card stuck in the case, reading over the songs with an awed look on his face. "I... wow. I don't even know what to say, Richie." Richie doesn't either, so he doesn't say anything. Finally, Eddie looks up at him with a huge smile. "Thank you."

"Uh. Yeah. Of course." His face is burning. Mere mortals like him weren't meant to be gifted with full on Eddie Kaspbrak smiles like that. Those smiles are too bright, too honest, too sweet. It could be listed as a deadly weapon against weak hearts like his. 

Eddie seems to forgive him for going on a date with one of their bullies after that. They curl up under the covers of his bed that was too small for them both when he first started climbing through the window and was entirely too small now that Richie was quickly approaching six-foot-three. Richie tells him all about his not-really-a-date-date and Eddie shares his chocolate. Afterward, they huddle in close to listen to the mixtape on the same pair of headphones before falling asleep pressed against each other in ways that not too sixteen year old boys were allowed to in the light of day.

It's probably Richie's favorite Valentine's Day to date.

5) 1994

Richie is a motherfucking senior in high school and he's faced down a killer clown from outer space and he's dealt with so many school bullies, so he decides that this year is his year. He's going to grab life by the balls and own this shit this year. After all this time being scared, he's finally going to fucking do it. He's going to face his biggest fear head on and ask Eddie fucking Kaspbrak to kiss him on the lips and maybe let him touch his dick. 

He says it to himself at least once a day and it starts to get old after a while actually. After the first month of school and it never happens, he gives himself a deadline. He's going to do it by the end of the school year. He's got to! No more bitching out, no more fucking around. End of senior year, he's going to confess his undying love for Eddie or he's going to explode from it finally since it's just been ballooning up in his chest every passing day and it now takes up so much room it's almost impossible to open his mouth without it spilling out. 

By the beginning of February, he starts to think that it might not actually be that scary. If Eddie doesn't like him back, it'll be fine! Just like with Beverly and Bill. He says it to himself enough that he actually starts to even believe it.

Besides, he has bigger things to worry about, like never seeing any of the Losers again after graduation because college is quickly approaching and they all seem to be going in different directions. That's a much bigger problem than maybe Eddie giving him a weird look every once in a while. It’s kind of an all consuming issue that’s constantly worrying him at the back of his mind every day now.

But first things first, he has a more pressing problem. Richie is a total beginner when it comes to romance and Eddie deserves the shit romanced out of him. So he turns to the most romantic motherfucker he's ever met for a hand. 

"Haystack! You've got to help me!" He cries into the phone as soon as it stops ringing. 

There's giggles on the other end that don't sound like Ben at all. "Uh. Hi, Richie. Bev is here too, is that okay?" Ben asks.

He sucks in a breath and heaves a big dramatic sigh. "I  _ suppose _ ."

"Fuck off, Rich." She's laughing when she says it and it makes him smile. 

"Gladly, as soon as you help me with a tiny bit of a problem." 

"Aright. What's up?"

He could dance around the topic and try to subtly ask what it is he wants, but he decides to plunge in headfirst. "How do I be romantic?"

It's quiet on the other line and he's starting to regret his decision to call him in the first place. "Uh. I mean. What do you mean?"

"What do you mean what do I mean?" Richie huffs. "I thought this was, like, your department with the poetry and the loving stares at Bev and all the being sweet shit."

"Um. Thank you? I think?" Ben laughs nervously. 

Beverly cuts in. "Why?"

"None of your goddamn business, Molly Ringwald."

"Well, okay. Is it for a confession? Or like a date?" Ben asks, staying on topic.

Richie makes a pained noise. "There's different ways to be romantic? I was hoping you could just tell me some shit and I would be able to do this thing."

"What thing?" Beverly asks.

Ben steps in before Richie can pick a fight with her, which is exactly what he was going to do. "Yeah. Like confessing is going to be different than just planning a date. So..."

"It's..." Richie groans. "Okay, fine. A confession. Tell me how to be romantic in a confession."

"Okay. I don't think there's any one right way to do it—"

Richie interjects. "Benny Boy, please. It's total amateur hour for me. I have no fucking clue what I'm doing."

"Who are you confessing to?" Beverly tries again, but he's going to keep ignoring her as long as he can. 

Thank god Ben always tries to keep the peace. "Okay. Well, I mean, there's no right way to do it! And it's hard for me to tell you a romantic way to confess to someone if I don't know who it is. You just need to think about something that's special to that person and try to weave it into your confession. Like, um.... Stan? If it were Stan, taking him bird watching would be a good idea. Or like giving Bill a new watercolor set, since he likes to do art. Sometimes I give Beverly pieces of clothing I find in thrift shops that remind me of her since she’s into fashion. Stuff like that."

"Just... try to do something that the other person likes?" He's frowning and they can probably hear it in his voice. He already does shit like that with Eddie all the time, buying him his favorite comics or switching lunches with him because Eddie never gets to eat food that his mom doesn't approve of otherwise or sneaking him mixtapes for his Walkman since the last Valentine's Day— 

Valentine's Day. 

"Oh fuck. So like, if you guys have a tradition on a day, maybe using that?" Richie asks, lightbulbs lighting up above his head. 

"Yeah!" Ben sounds proud. "Something like that is great!"

Now that Ben's advice time is over, there's nothing to stop Beverly. "Richie, who are you confessing to?"

"Sorry, Bev Baby, you told me to fuck off after the advice, so I'll be doing that now."

"No! Come on, Rich. We're all best friends. You can tell me. You trust me, right?" There's something in her voice that makes it sound like she already knows. Maybe it's some side effect of the deadlight visions, maybe some weird intuition that she's always seemed to have. 

That's the thing: he does trust her, explicitly. He trusts all the Losers with his life and then some. He sucks in a breath and Eddie's name is on his lips, but last minute he chickens out. "I'll tell you if it goes well. How does that sound, Miss Marsh?"

There's a beat of silence. "Sounds great. Good luck."

"Good luck!" Ben shouts too, much more enthusiastic and less deadly serious. 

"Thanks guys. I am going to romance the fuck out of this confession." Then they hang up.

***

Richie steals the biggest box of chocolate he can. It's a fifty piece, so ridiculous in size he doesn't even try to shove that shit in his pants. He gets a little creative and stages a distraction in the back of the store by giving some leftover New Year’s Eve bang snaps to a little kid and telling him to go nuts. While all the employees rush to the commotion, he slips out of the front with his oversized heart in tow and no one is any the wiser. 

He was actually going to pay for it this year, for the romance and whatnot, but it was so goddamn expensive and he can barely pay for all the gas he uses to haul the Losers around in his truck. He buys something else though, a gift that most definitely could be taken as a joke if he didn’t plan announcing his love as he forks it over.He also bought another tape to load up with all the gushy love songs that make him think of Eddie. If that's not bad enough, he even writes  _ For Eds ♥ _ on the song list, just to cheese it up a notch. Before he packs it all up in his truck, he makes sure to pick out all the caramels and eat them on the ride over.

The heart is so big that he wouldn't even be able to cram it into his backpack, so he's going to have to shove it through the window before he goes in himself since Valentine's Day is on a fucking Sunday this year and Eddie’s mom has gotten extra overprotective mom since Eddie had admitted he planned on leaving for college next year, so he's hardly allowed out at all on the weekends. But that's fine! He should be expecting a heart box of chocolates because that's what he steals for him every year. 

And that's just what he does. He knocks on the window and as soon as Eddie has it open, the box of chocolates is handed off to him. "Holy shit, Richie. How did you steal one this big?" 

"Who says I stole it? Maybe I was feeling like springing the big bucks on ya, Eds." He says as he crawls through the window. 

Eddie snorts. "Yeah, right. You wouldn't spend two dollars on a cheap one, there's no way you spent the twenty dollars I'm sure this one cost."

"It wouldn't be a proper Tozier-Kaspbrak Valentine's Day if I didn't steal it, now would it, Spaghetti Head?" He grins as Eddie plops down on the edge of his bed and pries it open. "Happy Valentine's Day, Eds."

"Happy Valentine's Day yourself, trashmouth." He pops a chocolate in his mouth. "Oh wow, this is really good chocolate." Richie chuckles and sits on the ground in front of Eddie. "I, uh. I got you something too." 

Richie feels heat creeping up his face and for the first time, he's not quite as scared of Eddie seeing him blush. Maybe it's because what he's about to do is kind of bigger than all the boxes of chocolate combined thus far, maybe it's still the impending doom that graduation spells for them. Whatever it is, he clears his throat and looks up at Eddie with his bright red cheeks on full display. "I got you something else too."

"Wait! Me first!" Eddie abandons the box and pulls a shoebox out from under his bed. It's Richie's shoe box from the chucks he got sophomore year and opened in Eddie's room so he could touch them before they got foot germs on them. He's always been doing weird shit for Eddie and he hopes he always gets to. Eddie pulls out a tape and Richie grins. "Now, don't judge me too much. I know you think you have a better taste in music—"

"I do."

"Shut the fuck up, Richie, my taste in music is good too. But, uh, yeah. Stan helped me make it. I hope you like it." 

He takes the tape and looks it over. Eddie wrote  _ DICK _ across the top of it like the little shit he is, but Richie’s eyes widen when he looks at songs. There was a very clear running theme to the tape that anyone who had ever heard of music could tell you. Every single one of the songs was a love song. "Eds..."

"Um. Yeah. So. We're going to college soon and I can't believe it and I'm fucking terrified of trying to survive a Valentine's Day without you and it made me realize that I can't leave without telling you I love you. You never mind me being weird about germs and shit and you go out of your way to try to make things easier on me and you make me laugh, even if you aren't fucking funny and all that shit so." Eddie sucks in a deep breath and then shrugs, trying to be nonchalant, but he's so stiff that it almost looks painful. Then he tosses a Ring Pop into Richie's lap like it's nothing, like it's not the international Valentine's Day sign for  _ I want to date the shit out of you _ . "Yeah. Anyway, happy Valentine's Day trashmouth."

Richie gapes at him. "You... Eds..." He can't believe his ears. There's no way that actually just happened. Did Eddie really just confess to him moments before he confessed?

"If you don't like me back or whatever, it's not a big deal, we can just pretend it was a joke and I'll never say anything about it ever again."

"Eds..." His heart was beating so hard he was sure it was going to beat straight out of his chest and flop around on the floor like one of his shitty attempts at breakdancing.

"Actually, yeah, just," He starts reaching for the tape and the Ring Pop. "This was an awful idea, just give me that back. I don't know what I was thinking. Of course you don't like me back. Why would you? I can't believe I just did that."

"Eds." Richie swats at his hands as he tries to yank the tape back, scooping up the Ring Pop too and clutching them both to his chest. "Eddie, fuck off, I love them!"

"You... you do?" His voice is so quiet when he asks it that Richie might not have heard him at all if he hadn't been looking right at him. He looked at Richie with his eyes wide and there's hope there that he's clearly trying to hold off the same way Richie had been the entire drive to his house.

He nods. "Yes. I love them. And fuck you."

"What?" Eddie's eyes go panicky again.

"Fuck you for beating me to confessing my love to you. I called Ben and asked him how to be romantic for this shit, so shut up and act surprised while I give you gifts."

Eddie looks at him for another moment before bursting into a fit of giggles. "Holy shit. Are you serious?"

"Yes." Richie searches his backpack for the two small gifts at the bottom of his backpack. 

"Wow. I didn't even think to call Ben. That was a smart move." 

"I'm a genius, I know." It's so easy to joke now. He feels so light and wonderful, he's pretty sure he could run a fucking marathon or fight a bear or something. 

"I wouldn't go that far."

Richie rolls his eyes and pulls out the mixtape first. It's so obviously full of love songs that Eddie grins when he gets his hands on it. "I guess we had the same idea."

"Yes, but I'm not done, Eddie my love." The nickname rolls off his tongue and it's definitely not the first time he's used it, but the words hang in the air and make him smile even wider, if that's possible. His cheeks hurt, he's smiling so wide. His fingers close around the last box and he pulls it out. "Eds, I seriously love you. I realized it somewhere like four Valentine's Days ago, at least, and I had to tell you that I loved you before we graduated. You make me laugh harder than anyone else and you're always there to bandage my scrapes whenever some asshole knocks me down and you've never been scared to knock me down a peg or two whenever I need it and I can't imagine a world for me without you in it. Valentine's Day is some stupid evil corporate holiday just out for money, we all know that, but it's also been the day of the year that I finally got do something for you that made me feel like your boyfriend, so I was hoping you would actually be my boyfriend, starting this Valentine's Day?" 

He shoves his one last box into his hands and watches nervously as he opens it. It feels stupid now, when Eddie lifts up the chain and a simple silver  _ R _ hangs at the bottom of it. "Richie..."

"It's, uh, you know, like those necklaces girls always wear with their boyfriend's initial. It's stupid, right? I just thought it would be-,"

"Shut up and put this on me, you asshole."

Richie does shut up, but he doesn't move. "What?"

"It’s not like I can wear your letterman or anything since you don't do anything—"

"I could wear  _ your _ letterman though. Wow, that's kind of hot."

"Shut up and put this fucking necklace on me before I use it to strangle you."

Eddie's cheeks are pink while he holds it out the Richie. He looks oddly determined and it's so fucking cute that he scrambles up to his knees to take the necklace. He leans into Eddie's space instead of standing up, putting their faces close together and that shouldn't be a big deal because Eddie slept with his head on Richie's chest only a couple nights ago. But it is now that he knows if he closed the gap between their lips, Eddie might actually  _ wan _ t that. It takes him three tries to get the clasp latched because his hands are sweaty, but he gets it finally and pulls back just enough to look at Eddie in the eyes. "Can I kiss you?" He didn't mean to say it, but it's out there now and it’s not like he can take it back, so he tries to swallow down his nerves as he waits.

He doesn't answer. Instead, he grabs two fists full of Richie's shirt and yanks him forward. Their noses bump first and Richie chuckles when he curses. Eddie huffs like he's irritated and it should be  _ illegal _ to be as cute as Eddie Kaspbrak. When they finally kiss, it's awkward because of the angle, but it's the best kiss Richie's pretty sure he'll ever have. It starts off soft and tentative, but then Eddie shifts his head just a little and shoves his tongue into Richie's mouth and it draws out a noise that he didn't even know he could make. They kiss sloppily for what feels like years before Richie drops all his weight back on his heels, needing to take a break because he’s pretty sure he forgot to breathe for the entire kiss.

"Whoa." He's staring up at Eddie and a grin stretches across his face. "We should do that like all the time."

Eddie nods, looking a little dazed. 

Impending doom is still approaching in just a handful of months with graduation and college and  _ change _ , but for Valentine's Day 1994, everything is perfect. That night, they curled up under the covers and Richie promises that he'll send a box of chocolate to Eddie in the mail every year until they're together again. He even promises to pay for them from then on out. Eddie kisses him so many times and he files each of them neatly away, hoping he never forgets a single one. 

+1 (2017)

Richie never sends a single box of chocolate in the mail, but to be fair, Eddie's not waiting for them either. As soon as they left Derry, their memories of it all started to melt away, including the ones of each other that Richie clung to so desperately that he remembers them for a month after college starts, even though he only ever made one phone call to Eddie.

In the in-between years, he never buys a single box of chocolate. Valentine's Day is just an evil corporate scheme to prey on couples in love and force them to spend money. He's always believed that and as far as he knows, he's never had anything good happen to him on a Valentine's Day.

Ironically, it's one of the first memories that comes back when Mike calls him. Not his last Valentine's Day in Derry, but the first one when he was thirteen and he stole his first box of chocolate for Eddie. His all consuming love for his best friend follows shortly after, but their senior year after Valentine's Day doesn't hit him until he sees Eddie Kaspbrak inside Jade of the Orient. It hits him like a Mack fucking truck when he notices Eddie's wearing that stupid fucking necklace he wouldn't take off senior year.

Twenty years later and he still has that thing.

Twenty years later and they're still so dumb in love.

Twenty years later and he finally gets to make good on his promise.

Richie shuffles through the seasonal aisle in Walmart on the thirteenth of February, grimacing as he sees the overpriced heart-shaped boxes of chocolate. It's what he's there for, but that doesn't mean he's happy about contributing to the stupidest holiday to exist. Well, he's kind of happy, but only because he knows Eddie will smile so fucking wide when he gives him the box of chocolate. He hadn't mentioned that he was swinging by Walmart, hoping to keep it a surprise. It had been twenty years since he'd given a box of chocolate to Eddie, so maybe it will be.

He passes over a couple, not able to justify spending over twenty dollars for a shitty box of chocolate even if he did have plenty of money to these days. Shit, he definitely didn't need to worry about money now that his comedy has been a bigger hit than ever since he has a near-death experience, coming out, and the, er, ‘accidental’ murder of his biggest tormentor to work with, not to mention Eddie's pretty big salary as well. But still. It's the principle of the thing! Twenty dollars for fifteen pieces of chocolate is fucking stupid and you can quote him on that. 

After walking all the way down the aisle and back, grimacing at the price tags and getting a couple questioning stares from the other fine patrons of the Walmart at ten-sixteen at night on a Monday night. All of them in the aisle were clearly buying last minute Valentine's Day gifts so who were they to judge him? He sighs after making his way down the aisle again and runs a hand through his hair. It shouldn't be this fucking hard to buy a stupid box of chocolate. It's not like he has to impress him or anything, they're already practically married with Eddie still wearing that stupid necklace like it's still the nineties and them living together and fucking on the regular. It's not that big of a deal.

Except it totally is. He's making good on a promise he broke and it feels like this box of chocolates has to somehow make up for the last twenty years. And it's for  _ Eddie _ . He's always drove himself nuts trying to impress Eddie, why would this be any different?

With another big sigh, he starts back up the aisle again. That's when it catches his eye. It's only a ten piece box and it's a whopping two dollars but it's absolutely the most perfect thing he could have found. He snatches it up and his muscle memory aches to shove it down his pants even if the last time he shoplifted something was when he was nineteen, but he resists, tucking it under his arm instead. Then he heads a few aisles down, grabs a bottle of wine — the nice stuff, something Stan recommended because he may be forty, but he's still drinks the same shitty boxed wine he drank in college — and some flowers for good measure since he passes the display on the way to the checkout counter. 

There's a good three guys in front of him in line with similar hauls and two more behind him. It's actually pretty funny, so he's mentally working it into a bit when the guy behind him bumps into him. "Sorry, man."

"No worries." He hums, not even bothering to look behind him. 

The man clicks his tongue and Richie finally risks a look. He's looking down at the box of chocolates in Richie's hand. "You sure about that box, man? My wife would kill me if I gave her that."

"Yeah." He feels his grin get wide, imagining the look on Eddie's face when he sees it. He hopes its his  _ I'm trying really hard to pretend I'm irritated with you because you're an idiot, but I can't because I love you too fucking much and I actually really like this _ look. "Sentimental and all. My boyfriend will think it's funny." Even though he's been out for a couple months, the words still make his mouth dry out with panic as he waits for the man to respond. 

His eyebrows knit together, but then he gives Richie a small smile. "Sentimental is always good. Valentine's Day always just makes me nervous, you know?"

"Fuck, do I ever. This little asshole has been giving me heart palpitations over boxes of chocolate since I was thirteen. Thought I was going to get dehydrated giving him the first box, I got so sweaty." The tension melts out of Richie's shoulders when the man chuckles. 

"Wow, that's a long time to be together. You must really like him." 

Richie looks down at the chocolate and feels his face get all dopey and lovestruck. "Yeah. You could say that."

"Good luck!" He claps Richie on the shoulder. It feels nice to know that other people freak out over this shit too, even if it is still stupid. 

***

Valentine's Day is a fucking Tuesday this year, but Richie made Eddie take the day off weeks in advance so they could sleep in. He had planned on making him breakfast in bed because he's super sappy like that now that he's allowed to be, then giving him his chocolate and flowers and all, but when he pulls into their driveway at eleven-fifty-five on the thirteenth, he gets a better idea. So he pops the lid off the chocolate and eats the caramels so Eddie doesn't accidentally get one and it stick to his teeth because he hates that. Then he waits until the clock hits eleven-fifty-nine to get out of his car and head inside. 

He's expecting Eddie to already be asleep since he cares about things like sleep schedules, so he's surprised to find him sitting up on the couch, wrapped up in a blanket and legs bouncing like he's hopped up on caffeine, sipping at a mug of tea. Richie has no way to hide the gifts in his arms, so he just stands there with his mouth hanging open, trying to think of something to say. Normally, he's the king of always having something to say, but Eddie has always been the one to leave him tongue tied. Eddie is staring at him over the top of his mug, holding it with both hands in front of his face, and he doesn't say anything either. 

Finally, Richie takes a step forward and sets his bag down in front of Eddie on the couch, shoving the flowers into Eddie's space. "Happy Valentine's Day, Eds."

Eddie places his mug gently down on the table, then takes the flowers and sets them down as well to rifle through the bag. "It's not Valentine's Day yet, idiot." He murmurs fondly. 

"Oh fuck you, it's after midnight. I made sure of it before I came in the door." He's grinning and Eddie's grinning and  _ fuck _ if he doesn't want this for the rest of his life. He already missed out on twenty years of giving Eddie stupid presents on this stupid holiday, he never wants to miss another one. 

His eyes widen and he looks down at his watch. "Wow. I didn't realize it was that late."

"What are you still doing up, Eddie Spaghetti?" He drops himself down on the couch next to Eddie. 

"I couldn't sleep, so I thought I would just wait up for you." As soon as he pulls out the box of chocolates and sees the front of it, Pepe le Pew smiling coyly over his shoulder with the words  _ Something smells like love _ on the front of it, he looks like he's torn between laughing and crying. "Oh my god I can't believe they're still making this shit. I can't believe you  _ found _ this shit. It's perfect."

"I even bought it, thank you very much." Richie says proudly. It gets another laugh out of him, which is exactly what he wanted. 

Eddie pulls the bottle of wine out next and raises an eyebrow at that. "Wow, really? This is actually bottled. Are you sure this isn't too fancy for you?"

"Oh fuck off! I had to call Stan to ask him what would be good and everything, at least act like you appreciate my effort." Richie is laughing too though because Eddie is the funniest person he's ever met and he loves every single playful insult they hurl at each other. 

Eddie's lips twitch up from where he's trying to keep them in a flat line. "Oh really? You called Stan? I called Ben to help me with your gift this year."

Richie remembers twenty years ago they went to the opposite people and he snorts out a laugh. "Oh really? You called Haystack, the master of romance? I should have thought of that."

"Let me just grab your present, okay?" Eddie stands and the blanket slips off of him to the floor. Richie waits patiently, which is to say his hands are sweaty and so are his armpits and that's stupid because they're already dating, but he can't help it. He loves everything Eddie has ever given him and he can't wait and apparently at forty, he gets the sweats for everything remotely exciting. 

After just a moment, Eddie returns with his hands shoved in the pockets of his sweatpants — Richie's sweatpants actually, they're hanging off his hips despite being tied tightly on and the legs are shoved up all the way to under his knees, bunched up a ridiculous amount because he's still so much taller than Eddie. Richie admires his boyfriend in his sweatpants, which is his excuse for not noticing Eddie was just standing awkwardly in front of him for too long. "So." He prompts, eyes finally drifting from Eddie's legs to his face, where he's chewing his bottom lip raw. 

"So." Eddie croaks, sounding entirely too nervous. He swallows, then clears his throat, then rocks back on his heels. "So." He comes out a little more even, but he's obviously still too nervous for just a stupid Valentine's Day gift to Richie, who obviously thinks he hung the moon and the stars in the sky and is most definitely looking at him like that right now. "So, I love you." He says finally, as if it were an explanation. 

"I love you too, Spaghetti Head." Richie grins. 

Eddie rolls his eyes and looks just a bit more comfortable. "Don't call me that while I'm doing this."

"Doing  _ what _ ?" He counters. 

"Right. Um. This." Eddie drops down onto one knee and Richie's pretty sure steam is coming from his ears because his brain is officially fried. "So I love you, for whatever reason, probably because I have terrible taste in men clearly." Eddie starts and it's the worst fucking start to a proposal anyone could ever have come up with. Richie fucking loves it. "And I always have, even during all those years we didn't remember each other because of stupid fucking clown magic, and I'm pretty sure I always will because the other day, I was watching you bitch about not wanting to floss your teeth and it made my heart skip a beat like a goddamn teenager. I don't want to spend another Valentine's Day without you. No, I don't want to spend another day without you, actually. I love your stupid jokes and your stupid face and your stupid smile and your stupid laugh, even if it's almost always at me." He pauses and pulls his hand out of his pocket to hold up a Ring Pop. "So, Richie trashmouth Tozier, will you marry me?"

Richie opens his mouth to respond, but he can't. His voice is caught in his throat along with his breath and his heart. He closes his mouth and tries to swallow, but he can't do that either, so he opens his mouth again and a choked sob comes out. That's all he can manage before the floodgates are open and he's sobbing, pushing his glasses up on his forehead to scrub at his eyes. After a minute, he holds out his hand — his left one because that's how this works, right? — for the ring and nods his head because he's probably not going to get his voice to work any time soon. Eddie hands over the plastic package and it crinkles under Richie's death grip on it. He's crying too hard to see what Eddie does next, but he feels his arms wrap around his shoulders and he leans into the embrace, clutching the Ring Pop to his chest like it's the most precious thing he's ever been given. Actually it  _ is _ the most precious thing he's ever been given, so he thinks that's fair. After at least five minutes of grossly sobbing because he's so fucking happy, he manages to say, "I love you." It comes out watery and raw from crying.

Eddie tucks his head under his chin. "I love you too, Richie."

They stay like that for a few more minutes while Richie composes himself before he manages to pull away and look at Eddie through his red ringed eyes. "Happy fucking Valentine's Day, Eds."

"Happy fucking Valentine's Day.." They share a grin and Richie is so happy he thinks his heart might burst.

He drops the Ring Pop into his lap to cradle Eddie's cheeks and pull him into a tender kiss. It's seamless, both of them slotting their lips together with ease that only two people who are so head over heels in love can find. Richie would keep it up too, loving the direction they're taking when Eddie blindly grabs the Ring Pop and throws it onto the table so he can clamber into Richie's lap without ever breaking the kiss, but he's struck with such a great idea he has to pull away. "Eds. Eddie my love, Eddie Spaghetti—”

"Richie I swear to god, I was going to blow you but you're on thin fucking ice if you keep it up with those awful nicknames."

"You love my nicknames!" He shoots back, grinning. "But this is super important, okay? We should get married on Valentine's Day. It's, like, our day, don't you think? Let's fucking do it. Let's be that fucking cliché. Fuck, let's get married today. We can go to the court house in the morning. We can have a wedding with Losers later."

"Richie." Eddie starts, but he's laughing too hard to keep going. 

"Oh fuck, do you realize that we got engaged before Bev and Ben? I can't wait to call them and rub it in their faces. We're clearly the power couple of the Losers Club. They all wish they were as romantic as us." Richie grinning, pressing kisses all over Eddie's face. One on his left eyebrow, one of the scar from Bowers' knife, one on the tip of his nose. 

Eddie just laughs through it all, looking as dumb in love as Richie is sure he does too. "I love you."

"I love you too." Their eyes catch and they hold it, content to stare into each other's eyes like this is some awful Hallmark movie that Ben watches. He's so in love that he doesn't even want to make fun of him for it. 

Eddie leans down and kisses him again. He can't believe he gets to have this, Eddie's laugh and his big doe eyes and his sharp tongue, for the rest of his life. Maybe Valentine's Day is a stupid corporate holiday that was created to steal money from dumb in love couples, but he sure has a lot to thank it for.

**Author's Note:**

> Catch me on Tumblr at [SRaye96](https://sraye96.tumblr.com/) or on twitter at [Raye96s](https://twitter.com/Raye96S)


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